


The Talking River

by grxmoire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Idk it's weird, Prompt Fic, kind of?, like he isnt really there, maybe one day i'll actually write a fic about him but for now you get a vague mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29572485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grxmoire/pseuds/grxmoire
Summary: "Fíli and Kíli were already there, stripped down to their pants and daring each other to go further and further in, encouraging the other with a splash of what could only be freezing cold water, seeing as midsummer was still a ways off."--A hobbit fic from a prompt i don't remember
Kudos: 7





	The Talking River

All things considered, they hadn't gotten very far on their journey, but Bilbo was already the farthest away from home he'd ever been. Bree had seemed like a far off, unimaginable, place when he was tucked away in the safety of Bag End, but they had already gone farther than that. If the hobbit had been thinking he would have brought his maps so he knew exactly where they were, instead of having just a vague sense from what he could scrape together from his memory and what the dwarves decided to divulge to him. He would have also brought a handkerchief and a jacket that was more suited to bear the brunt of nature's wrath. 

He had done none of these things. And the result had him feeling uncomfortable in more than one sense of the word. He had always felt uneasy staying away from home for too long and the added distance only amplified that feeling. He was homesick and it weighed down on his chest as if he had just swallowed a stone.

But under that, under the lack of comfort, the heartache, there was a vibration. A buzzing that set his blood on fire and guided his feet forward. Under the longing for home, there was an excitement he hadn't felt since he was a faunt. It was no doubt his tookish blood yearning for adventure, paired with his own curiosity for the world. 

“Master Burglar, you're ambition to carry on is admirable-” Balin started, snapping Bilbo out of his thoughts. “But we're stopping for the night, laddie.” The hobbit realized indeed he was ahead of the company, and they had all stopped and were already unpacking the ponies to set up camp. 

Bilbo's cheeks flared with heat and he cleared his throat. “Yes, good.. Great. I was simply... lost in thought.” muttering under his breath, the hobbit turned his pony right back around and gathered with the others to help unpack and, more importantly, help Bombur with the food he had already started cooking. 

They were set up near a river, still quite close to the road, if Bilbo looked downstream he could see the bridge, and the ground was soft with mud. It was tempting to just roll out his bedding and fall asleep as soon as he could, but being near a river meant he could wash up and scrub all the grime and sweat that was clinging to him like a second skin. 

And so, as soon as he was done helping with the food, the hobbit snuck away to the riverside. He was disappointed to find that he was not the only one who had thought to come to get clean. Fíli and Kíli were already there, stripped down to their pants and daring each other to go further and further in, encouraging the other with a splash of what could only be freezing cold water, seeing as midsummer was still a ways off.

When they had caught sight of Bilbo, before the hobbit could run, they shouted for him to come in, no doubt to join whatever game they had going on. The hobbit merely shook his head full of curls and smiled, albeit a bit exasperated. Bilbo had every intention of simply going a bit further down the river to give himself some privacy, but the sudden halt in the boyish yells and taunts had him refocusing on the siblings. 

They were both staring at the water intently, Fíli looking more focused compared to Kíli's wide-eyed expression of something that could almost be wonder. 

“Boys?” The hobbit called out, but was abruptly and almost violently shushed by them both.

“There's something in the water,” Fíli said, and Bilbo could suddenly see the fighter, rather than the boy, in the dwarf. 

“Something big.” Kíli had caution in his face as well, but his almost clearly excited voice gave him away. They were both waist-deep in the water, and Bilbo tried to follow their eyes.

“A fish?” the hobbit tried to offer but he was shushed once more, the noise grating against his nerves a bit. 

“Listen,” Fíli whispered, turning to stare at Bilbo, or perhaps to turn his ear to the water. “The river, it's talking.” 

Bilbo's ears strained and he heard the rushing of the water, the last call of the birds before sunset, the leaves on both tree and bush alike rustling, but nothing--

No... No, he could hear something else. Something that indeed sounded like a voice, though he would describe it more closely to singing rather than talking. It was sweet and melodic, and the underlying terror that had started to grow within the hobbit vanished. 

The river was talking, and its audience of three had every intention of listening.


End file.
